


How to beat the Stranger with a chair, a guide by Jonathan Sims

by nonsannochetuseilantartide



Series: Bene Vivit Qui Cenat [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, M/M, Not Actually Married but We're Here, Post-Canon Fix-It, Tim has purple hair, Weird Fluff, jonmartin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28320465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonsannochetuseilantartide/pseuds/nonsannochetuseilantartide
Summary: After they arrive at Tim’s place, trouble for Martin and Jon is not over, considering that maybe the girl that says she’s Sasha is probably not really her.And, of course, is up to them finding a solution.And fast.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Bene Vivit Qui Cenat [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067045
Kudos: 3





	How to beat the Stranger with a chair, a guide by Jonathan Sims

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is the second part of the series and despite it can be read independently I recommend to read the previous part for more context.

Tim’s place had the same smell that might have had a spice merchant’s warehouse during the Dark Ages.  
The smell entered almost immediately in the bones of the newly arrived who, after hours and hours of car, did not understand right away if it was better to collapse on the floor or straight up go back in Scotland.  
-Guys! You’re here!- while Jon was one step away from cutting the rope and call Tim to say that they had an accident and couldn’t get on time, the host was already trotting towards them.  
The time reset didn’t stop his purple hair, his smirk and the Ratatouille’s apron.  
Martin was relieved to see that first no one had arrived yet and second they had all the time to change their clothes with the ones they had in the bag, to make themselves presentable.  
Mostly Jon, who looked like a caterpillar in the chrysalis with all these sweaters on.  
-Hi- saluted Martin, keeping his fingers on the bag handle.  
It’s not like he was jumping from joy, his only wish was to collapse on the floor and sleep for at least ten years, but he couldn’t show up so dead inside.  
He just made a grimace, while his hand took the cake in the bag. -We got the cake-.  
-Triple chocolate: gianduia, white chocolate and dark chocolate- said the other with a fierce voice, finding the strength to point the package.  
-The good stuff, uh- replied the other, taking in his hands as it was a bomb ready to explode.  
-The good stuff, right- Jon really missed the taste of chocolate, because all the things he “ate” in the other timeline didn’t had the same taste.  
Tim patted him on the shoulder.  
-The girls will arrive in minutes, if you want to change your clothes the bathroom is down here- the host pointed at a door in the middle of the corridor that led to the kitchen, then he turned around and went back to cooking.  
How embarrassing. 

-You’re as pale as a rag- Jon was taking a jacket, the dark one that made him look bigger, wearing it on the rumpled shirt.  
It’s been a long time since he wore something lighter than a big sweater.  
He felt almost naked, only with a jacket and pants.  
Martin, on the other side of the small bathroom, was looking at himself in the mirror, noting all its reasons.  
Stringy and messy hair, crooked glasses, dark eye bags under his tired eyes.  
Picture of health, really.  
He was adjusting his tie, shooting a gaze at his husband.  
-For all the Apocalypse you looked more a puppet than a human, but I never said you anything about that-  
-It happens when you’re a demigod prophet king of the destroyed world kept alive only by a primordial entity that caused the end of the civilization-  
-When you were a demigod prophet king of the destroyed world kept alive only by a primordial entity that caused the end of the civilization you never had to drive all day with an idiot that was keeping to change the route-  
-I killed people!-  
-And you almost puked in my car-  
Since they had solved everything, they argued way more often.  
They stayed in that awkward silence for a bunch of seconds, hearing the humming of the host in the kitchen.  
They missed that. They missed everything, actually.  
Martin left the mirror, leaving the hands on the edges of his husband’s jacket, still frowning.  
-This jacket really fits you like a glove- murmured, maybe to put a patch on that amazing conversation.  
Jon fixed the other’s tie. -Yours too-.  
Then he took his hand, smiling like nothing happened.  
-Apparently, here the Apocalypse never happened and Sasha is alive, so be careful- continued Martin, leading both of them to the bathroom’s door.  
-I’ll be, don’t worry-  
Right after they got out, the first thing they saw was Tim’s worried smile.  
-What’s happening?- exclaimed nervous Martin, reading too well the emotions on the man’s face.  
-The one in the kitchen- stammered tensely, glazing at the end of the corridor. -It’s Sasha, but it’s not Sasha!-  
The two looked at each other.  
Just what they needed. 

The girl in the kitchen was Sasha: fair hair in a ponytail, thick glasses on the sky-like eyes.  
She was Sasha, wasn’t she?  
-She’s not her! She’s not her! She’s not her but she says she’s her, has her same voice, her clothes, but she’s not her!- Tim was literally screaming, even though they weren’t distant from the kitchen.  
-Calm down, calm down- Jon was already scared. It was the Stranger. If Tim was right and wasn’t losing his head completely, it was the Stranger.  
So, the Entities were still here.  
Or Tim was way more paranoid than he remembered.  
-When she came in?- Tim was lucky to have the biggest expert in supernatural stuff in all London in his circle of friends.  
-A few minutes ago, she brought the pastries- the host scratched his neck.  
-Right. And has she done weird things?  
-I asked her the name of her road, and she said she lives in Duran Duran Road. Duran Duran Road!-  
-Probably she was joking, Tim- Martin tried to calm the waters, putting an hand between him and his husband. -You shouldn’t be this nervous!-  
-She doesn’t live in Duran Duran Road because it doesn’t exist!-  
-Maybe they’ve named it recently-  
-I know where she lives and I know that road hasn’t been named after Duran Duran-  
-Let’s stop, alright?- Jon took the smart role -are you sure she’s not Sasha?-  
Tim nodded.  
-And you’re like, really sure?-  
-Yeah-  
-And so why you let her in?!-  
-Because she looked like Sasha!-  
Everyone sighed.  
-So, you know what we’ll do? We go in the kitchen, ask a bunch of questions and we’ll see how to continue, okay?-  
-Okay-  
It was time to do some damage. 

-Hi! We haven’t seen each other in ages!- Sasha’s trilling voice (okay, the one that maybe was Sasha’s voice) filled the kitchen that was also the dining room, while friendly lingered over the two men to hug them.  
Jonathan couldn’t stop a worried smirk while holding briefly the other ina small hug, every Entity that touched him in the past sure left painful marks on his skin and even more painful memories, and less managed to take back an anxious glaze when she tried to hug his husband, leaning to reach his neck.  
She was Sasha, but at the same time, she wasn’t her. There was something weird about that, but they couldn’t tell what.  
On the table, there was a bowl of peanuts and one of the chips, some fruits, and six chairs around it.  
Everything was apparently perfect.  
-What do you have on your fingers?- with a curious attitude, the girl that maybe was Sasha pointed at the iron wires wrapped around the two’s index fingers. They considered them as wedding rings, stuff from the Apocalypse and everything, and in horror they remembered that they weren’t actually married.  
Or better.  
They were married, but only during the Apocalypse.  
How poetic, really.  
-Oh, they’re ri-  
-They’re for closing packages. We always lose wires to close them and so we found this method- Martin interrupted the other, making a good story.  
He was always good at covering his ass.  
The girl that maybe was Sasha scratched her chin, thinking for a bit. -That’s so smart-.  
-It was a Jon’s idea- he patted the other’s shoulder, to wake him up in some ways.  
-Yeah, it was mine. Mine mine. Absolutely mine- blurted out, making a fake smile.  
-No doubt, you’ve always been so brilliant!- okay, that was weird.  
Sasha seldom complimented Jonathan.  
Weird thing number one.  
-You know, you look great with these earrings- continued Martin, swaying on the heels.  
Sure they were pretty, he gifted them to her. -Where did you buy them?-  
It was a tricky question.  
Sasha, or the one that pretended to be her, touched Minnie’s shaped earrings, pursing her lips.  
-I can’t remember. My mind is a bit of...off? These days? Sorry- she tried to release the tension with a laugh.  
-It happens- a piece in Martin’s heart broke.  
-Ehy Sasha- Tim approached her, the hands on his back with an investigating look. -How are you?-.  
That was a crucial question. You can learn so many things from a single response to a “how are you”.  
The three held their breath.  
-Everything’s fine- replied the one that at this point sure wasn’t Sasha, leaving the men watching each other like idiots.  
In a normal situation, the Sasha replied to that question with a precise scheme: first, a heavy sigh, then a rant and she often finished with a “yeah, at the end of the day we’re still alive”.  
She never made a replied that was that simple.  
-Oh, Melanie and Bas arrived- nervous, the host stepped back to the beginning of the corridor, shooting glazes to the other two. -They’ve taken a lot of things and I need someone to help me out-  
-We’re coming- Martin jumped out, taking Jon with him.  
-I can help too if you wa- said the one that wasn’t Sasha.  
-No no, look. In three we can do anything- smiling like an idiot, Tim took the others in the corridor.

-Okay, she’s not Sasha- said Jonathan, leaning on the wall.  
-Of course she’s not Sasha!- Tim was still scratching his neck, leaning on the other side of the corridor.  
-I think she’s just confused. I mean, it happens to be just confused and forget something- Martin tried to stay rational, maybe because he got sick of paranormal stuff. He wanted just for a bit believe in the normal explanation, but the earring thing just wasn’t right.  
-Maybe, but this thing doesn’t convince me at all-  
-Me too, me too- said Tim, shaking his head.  
They stayed in deep contemplation for a bunch of seconds, when Jonathan raised his head as he had the divine illumination.  
-Do you...do you remember the cadrega thing?- asked, letting the hamsters in the others’ heads start running faster in their wheels.  
-You mean that time when you said that Italians call chairs “cadreghe” and for months we just said “could you pass me the cadrega”?-  
-Yeah-  
-No, I don’t remember-  
-Quit being an idiot and listen to my plan- grumbled out, searching for an encouraging glaze from Martin. -We’ll do the famous cadrega trick-  
-The what?-  
-The cadrega trick. We’ll see if she remember what it is. We go to her and say “take a cadrega” and if she takes the chair it means she’s Sasha, if she takes something else she’s not Sasha-  
-Great Jon, you’re as crafty as a weasel- Tim patted his shoulder, coming back into the kitchen followed by the other two.  
-So, Sasha honey- eyed one of the chairs near the girl, trying to mask his subtle grin. -Take a cadrega!-  
-A cadrega does not refuse to anyone…- echoed Martin, with the same kind of smile as the other.  
The guy who planned the genial plan was leaning on the kitchen countertop, a fist filled with chips that was eating slowly.  
The girl that at this point sure wasn’t Sasha looked around her, eyeing the table.  
A cadrega...a cadrega...a cadrega...what could it be?  
She could not drop the disguise now!  
Cadrega, cadrega, cadrega.  
Took an apple, biting it with strong noise.  
-Umh...this cadrega is so good…- blurted out between one bite and another, looking with fear at the others’ expressions.  
-My dear Sasha…- Jonathan made a few steps, finishing to eat the last chip. -The cadrega is the chair-  
It was the inside joke’s logic: even if time pass, the inside joke remains forever.  
And the cadrega was, of course, the chair. Martin and Jonathan remembered it, even after...everything that happened.  
-Oh, sure- with a tense movement, that thing that wasn’t Sasha for sure headed to the corridor, rapidly. -Now I have to go just one minute to the bathroom-  
The three looked at each other while hearing the door slamming.  
-I told you! I told you! That’s not Sasha! We don’t know that it is, and we don’t know where is the real Sasha!- Tim was screaming like an ambulance siren, tapping his feet on the floor.  
-Chill, now think about the...the thing in the bathroom- Martin was right, of course.  
The host nodded, then he headed back into the corridor.  
After a bunch of eternal seconds, he went back into the kitchen. -She disappeared. Totally. Like mist-  
Like mist.  
Damn, that was creepy.  
-Well- Jon wasn’t like...relieved, but it was better to have an Entity outside the house than inside. -At least, she went away, whatever that thing was-.  
Tom sighed deeply, sitting in one of the chairs. -No more accidents, okay?-.  
They stayed in that bubble of awkward silence when they heard a hand knocking on the door.  
The ears of all were strained.  
-Tim? Tim?- it was a feminine voice. -Could you let me in? I’m Sasha-.  
Apparently, trouble rarely comes alone. 

The three were staring at the girl that maybe was Sasha like she was a laboratory experiment, sitting around her and with their fingers scratching their chin like it was all planned.  
-Are you guys okay? - the girl that maybe was the real Sasha was sitting on the chair that the girl that for sure wasn’t Sasha should have taken, crossing her legs and showing at least ten different awkward looks.  
Sure, she was different from the past one: curly hair coming down on her face the same colour as amber, thick glasses (again) on her gentle eyes dark as a moonless night.  
The others, however, didn’t seem to notice this fact.  
-Why are you late? What does this bag contain?- attacked immediately Tim, passing his fingers into his purple hair.  
-I know about your lactose intolerance so I tried to find pastries without lactose-blurted out, crossing her arms on her chest. -Happy birthday, anyway-.  
-Take a cadrega, Sasha honey- Martin tried to look calm, while showing another fake and awkward smile full of fear.  
The situation started to be almost grotesque, with those three that tried to be Sherlock Holmes DIY version like the good old times.  
Sasha, that at this point we’ll call just Sasha, looked at them like they’ve just said a blasphemy.  
-I’m already sitting, Martin- spelled the words carefully.  
The three looked at each others again.  
It was meaningless, come on. Maybe that thing just heard them talking before.  
No, they had to continue.  
They nodded silently, activating the next phase.  
-What’s my favourite animal?- started Martin, beginning with a back and forth interrogation and posing his hands on his thighs.  
-Dog-  
-And what’s my favourite film? And why?- entered Jonathan, making again his ponytail just to look more confident.  
They had to bomb her with questions.  
Sasha sighed quietly, thinking about that for a few seconds.  
-Howl’s Moving Castle because you liked the book as a child and the soundtrack makes you cry every time. Can we just stop with the interrogation now?-  
-No. Why I always asked you to make the math when we worked together?-  
-Because you are dyscalculic and you still count on your fingers-  
-And what’s my favourite musical?- continued Martin.  
-Les Miserables-  
-What’s my opinion on ice cubes?-  
-Tim, I won’t say that thing out loud-  
-If you know it, say it-  
Sasha had the urge to throw herself out of the first available balcony, but still managed to sigh.  
Again.  
-”Would it be more smart to make ice cubes out of lemon juice to put into cola glasses instead to put both ice and lemon?”. I said it- she really looked like a woman accused of witchcraft during a trial.  
Tim glazed at the other two, searching answers.  
-It sounds this stupid said out loud?-  
-Yeah- everyone replied in unison.  
Okay, maybe she was the real Sasha.  
She knew too many embarrassing information.  
She was Sasha for sure.  
-Okay, now- Sasha put her hands on the table. -Can you morons explain to me why this all happened?-  
-Umh...we just wanted to…- again, Jonathan needed to be seen as the genius of the situation, halted eventually by Tim.  
-New tradition. “How much do you know about your friends?”- a forced laugh. -I’ve seen this on Pinterest and it sounded funny-.  
-Alright, I trust you- muttered the girl, hearing the sound of a notification on the phone. -Bas and Melanie are at the door-.

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, thank you for reading this, and a merry Christmas to those who celebrate and a good evening/morning/afternoon to those who don't.  
> This second part has been inspired by another sketch by Aldo Giovanni and Giacomo, the "inganno della cadrega". It was fun to write and I hope this was fun for you too!  
> Love you all, bye.


End file.
